The day the leader was killed

lies buried within me

alone.

I should have chosen some place other than the Pyramids Resthouse. This place situated on the edge of the plateau holds for us the fondest of memories. That calm look in her eyes makes me feel even guiltier. No one deserves respect; nothing is truly worthwhile; no promise is worth keeping. History is on the decline, what with the dark nightingale on the one hand and the dark crow on the other. Dr. Alyaa should cease spouting slogans for she’s a wife and a mother. She herself has drained the cup of love to the dregs, so kindly allow us now to sip our cup of tea in peace. Rather, you enjoy it, for I myself am unable to relish it.

“For heaven’s sake, why this silence?”

I gazed at the tops of the palm trees scattered along the slope.

“Randa, did you know of your mother’s visit to my grandfather?” I asked.

“It didn’t go too well but then there’s nothing new under the sun,” she said scornfully.

“If this were so, we would’ve got married years ago,” I retorted in distress.

“I notice you’re more upset than I’d imagined.”

“I’ve been suffocating.”

“But we’re used to resisting opposition.”

“For how much longer?”

“Time isn’t important.”

“Whether we like it or not, time is important. I’ve also heavy responsibilities.”

“I too have responsibilities. We’re in exactly the same position,” she said firmly.

“I’ve got to admit I’m ruining your future.”

“And what about your future?”

“It’s different. A man can get married in his fifties.”

“For the first time, I sense that you feel defeated, Elwan,” she muttered, her face growing pale.

“Maybe it’s because I’ve been able to overcome my selfishness for the first time,” I said after some hesitation.

“My God, are you seriously

considering…

“ she cried, bewildered. She had hardly finished her sentence when I interrupted:

“I now free you from my bondage,” I said digging into my own wound.

“Elwan, I can’t stand hearing you say that,” she said with great emotion.

“Reconsider our position away from my insufferable presence.”

“I’m free and no one has any power over mc.”

“The matter has to be reconsidered.”

“

It’s

sound logic hut I doubt its soundness where true love is concerned,” she said gloomily.

“Careful, don’t start doubting me and don’t make matters worse, for love, too, has been sacrificed,” I said hastily and emotionally.

“You don’t have to make any sacrifice.”

“I’m only doing what I think is right.”

“Just say that you now feel I’m an obstacle in your way,” she said bitterly.

“God forgive you, Randa. I shan’t sit and defend myself.”

“I won’t have you make any sacrifice.”

“But I insist on it,” I said quite plainly.

We were divided by silence, a silence heavier than the approaching night. We both shrank within our shells. Despair was driving us far apart so that our being together seemed to have lost all meaning.

“There’s no point in my remaining here,” she grumped, standing up.

So I too rose, lifeless. We looked like two strangers, each heading for

his own

country. Only pain is stronger than love. I could just visualize the loneliness lurking there at the end of the road. We did not exchange a single word all the way hack.

And no farewells as we parted inside the old building.

My parents were in their room and my grandfather was sitting all alone in front of the television. I sat next to him; he glanced my way furtively and expectantly.

“A film about a mad woman.

I don’t like it,” he said finally, as though he were trying to escape from his own thoughts.

“Why do you sit and watch something you don’t like?” I asked.

“There’s a speech on the other channel.”

“Why don’t you switch it off then?”

“It’s better than nothing.”

“We broke off our engagement!” I said.

A look of gloom and frustration crept into his eyes.

“God help you in your predicament,” he muttered.

“We broke up and that’s it,” I said dryly.

“I feel guilty,” he added in a sad tone.

“You’re not responsible, Grandpa,” I answered coldly.

Randa Sulayman Mubarak

I could see the image of my face reflected in the look with which my mother greeted me: pity and something very close to fear.

“Congratulations. Your efforts have succeeded,” I told her within earshot of my father. She sank into a deeper silence as tears began to fill her eyes. Suddenly my father said:

“I

trust

the soundness of your judgment.”

“Papa, please don’t treat me like a child,” I said on a note of protest.

“You won’t regret it, and I’ll be soon reminding you of this,” he said calmly.

My mother finally spoke out and said:

“You’re a true believer and one therefore doesn’t have to worry about you.”

“Your mother wasn’t wrong, Randa,” said my father.

This is, however, a brand-new life I shall have to be lacing from now on, a life in which there is no trace of Elwan, one which I will have to patiently endure until I die. I was suddenly struck by the bitter sense that I was growing old, haunted by bleak visions of spinsterhood. My bedroom seemed old and shabby with its two ancient beds, its peeling cupboard and faded carpet with only traces of a design still visible. Even my sister Sanaa had become exasperating and nasty.

“You deserve to be congratulated,” she said coldly.

I was angry with Elwan. He proved to be weaker than I had imagined. He deserves to remain confused and aimless forever and ever. I can even see him getting into bad ways or selling himself to a woman like Gulstan. The fact is he’s tired of having to bear responsibilities. He’s trying to escape from this sense of inadequacy and imagines that no one will ever accuse him any longer of not being able to get married. I told

myself

that I should he congratulating myself on my freedom. I am lighter than I have ever been in the past. He has abandoned me; he has betrayed me. Who but him is ever to care about my excruciating unhappiness? I should be congratulating myself on my freedom. From now on, I can weigh matters rationally with a mind unfettered by the whims of the heart. I am free… I am free! Enough of that! But what did Anwar Allam mean when he spoke to me? What endless unhappiness is that! Does time really cure one from the pangs of love? When and how, damn it! The more I am humiliated, the more contempt I have for him. My parents are being deliberately elusive and will probably remain so until they are once again able to handle matters. First

comes

defeat in victory, then the sense of victory. He fled and I

have

been freed. Nurse your pain courageously until it disappears.

I braced myself to meet him on his arrival at the office in the morning, bent on greeting him like any other colleague as though nothing had happened, determined to appear indifferent. But I could not. I was unable to look